Having Very Little Fun

There are thoseStill wanting to play hide n' go seek! With truth and reality...As if in their aging days...It is okay to sneak a peek! Wanting to be chased...Leaving behind excuses left as clues.They may not know where they are, Even though you do! But choose not to!

Let them play...These adults are the reason, Most children are lost today! Let them play! They will never admit to what they've done.Even though the rest of us are paying...At a losing game, And having very little fun!

Many can claim, Those actions have brought them none! With nothing that is gained to show...Or to prove anyone can win, When blinded eyes can not see, What they have ignorantly begun!

Related quotes

There Are Many Who Have Left Behind This Activity

Can't you taste tomorrow's freshness? Is it not apparent, That which is stale.Can no longer prevail on its present course.And that beating a dead horse, Will not revive a survival of that which has died.

And a flipping back through pages, Seeking direction for which step to take.Is not advantageous, For those choosing to keep up with a forward pace.

Although some will continue, With a beating of a horse done.There are many who have left behind this activity.With an acknowledgement that a past once lived.Is clearly not meant for those living.

May Not Have Known Who They Are

Don't let what others whisper, Control your destiny.Many people without a life, Have yours as their fantasy.

They imagine with your assistance, What you do out of their sight.And if it is not exciting enough...It will be in their eyes.And on their tongues day and night.

Don't let what others whisper, Control your destiny.Many people without a life, Have yours as their fantasy.

And when they see you alone undeterred, Dismissing them as if they don't exist.This creates animosity instantly.With your name and action on their lips...As you are observed at quite a distance from it.

There Are Poems That Tear The Soul

There are poems that tear the soul And leave us gasping for breath They make us recallOur losses in lifeAnd our disappointmentsThey hurt us with their BeautyAnd we do not knowWhat to do with them.

Like people we loved onceWho are far awayAnd like times in our life Which were happy And now are recalled in regretThere are poems that tear the soul And leave us wondering Why all this pain is life And why there isSo much we will never know or haveThough we long for and would die for.

You May Not Be Able to Feel My Pinch

My reality lived, Is not yours to claim.My insights are not like another.Neither are yours.But we both can agree...However we are looking at reality, There is little room to fantasizeThe sting of its clarity.You may not be able to feel my pinch, As it is self inflicted.But I am sure...You have experienced a kick in the butt! And that comes to us without description.Or an invitation you solicit to kiss...When the kicking of it has been missed! Either way, I recommend as a hint...Do not make neither of those actions, An accepted routine.You will just get stuck going nowhere...Seeking an increase of volunteers. And many will have their boots tied and ready.Tempers are on the edge! So I would step lightly.

There Are No Children Here

The untrained eyeWalks down the streetAnd sees childrenBut they're not childrenThere are no children here

Adults look back With hungry eyesAnd someone thinks''They're just childrenWith a mother and a father Never any fear''And they kid themselvesAs there are no mothersNo fathersBecause there are no children here

Terror doesn't careAs they cry over thereIt lets someone stareThrough the sight of a gunSeeing everyoneAnd just for funShoot them

People rush around crying''But they were just children! They were just children! ''

A man with a gunTurns and runsBut as he does they hear''They aren't children''And''They weren't children'' And''You need to know: There are no children here''

No one makes a soundListening to the truth he's foundAnd they know: It's our fault We didn't save themWe could have saved themIf we caredThere would be children here

Many Will Never Recover At All

Leave those alone who are comforted by their own beliefs.Fragmented realities had at one time brought relief...To the ones who pocketed funds from such divisions! Choosing not to listen and making wrong decisions.

Those days are fading fast for them.From all fronts their outlooks are crumbling within.Soon those affected can not refuse the truth.It will be there shared by all.And those who run from it, Need not be pursued!

For them there will be no exit! Let them with limited time persist.Sit back and watch their minds split to bits.And feel blessed you were able to see it for what it was.Some might be able to grow from it.

Unfortunately...Many will never recover at all! Since honesty for them, Was something they felt could be put off! And reality for them will be a wound to go exposed...Never to heal.Creating defeat and their downfall.With minds sold on treasures gone...A purpose to exist leaves them nothing left to feel.But a ground for their hands and knees to crawl.

My life will never be normal

i live day by day, wondering if i will ever be normal, i realize that it is not possible, every bit of part of me that was taken, will never be given back, it like i died everytime i was abused, my world turned upside down, i became use to living my life the same, numb, confused and nobody to turn to, nights were lonely, and full of nightmares, the only way i can excape was to fly, fly away and never return, now that i'm older, just hot wiring a car in my dreams, just so i can excape the pain and torture, is a dream come true, when the nights are suppose to be seen as good, mine were awasys dark, i regret even falling asleep, but it what the body needs, there are times i lay in bed, just wondering how my life got this way, tears run down my face, anger rushes to the surface, some selfish punk had their fun, and left nothing but pain, it wasn't even fun, it what they call, money will keep you quiet, let me do what i want, some selfish prick, who deserve what they get in life, i'm done blaming myself for what happened in the past, what happened, happened, it my life that i have to live now, it just sucks when guys judge me, for what happened in my past, it just don't seem fair, but it time to stop being the victim, and start being the survivor!

May not prove right

Sometimes what you think may not prove rightInstead of left you may chose wrong and go out of sightYou are adamant and sticking with wrong judgmentIt lands you in maximum trouble with embarrassment

How can sea turn from blue to white? How can you get any thing without putting up fight? It has its own deep depth to make you wonderThe nature has its own secrets for all the time to ponder

The mango tree may not ripen its fruit of its ownYou have your own tendency and are well-knownYou want it to dropp in your mouth with no effortsNo one may provide you such blessings with comforts

Merely hoping may do no wonderRain may shower with heavy thunderThis all may take place in its own wayYou can not hope it in leisure time and run away

Life is same as it was beforeYour thinking is erroneous and is flawed thereforeIt is ridiculous to think about reaching safely at shoreYou are lost on the way and may reach no where

Any person is worth penniless unless tries very hardHe may fear before it begins with good starts He may think of leaving it in betweenAnd loose the hope of getting clear win

Life may seem dull and uselessYou may be lost simply in raceThere will be nothing more left to traceIt will be really delicate and bad phase

He may within himself generate dejectionLife may look worth for simple rejectionThere is nerd for powerful thrust with injectionIt may them improve altogether with some indication

Thank God, in day time the stars are not seenOtherwise time will be spent sky and its sceneThe moon will not surface and cool the mindThe wishes and desires may never be on hand to find

Well some hopes can be revived It is only means to remain survivedLife hinges on the thin ray of hopeThe show can never go flop

We are gifted with untiring energy and strengthIt may loose some thing on way and not match wave lengthYet it has powerful beacon to trace the locationThere is lot more to wait for happiness and elation

So loose no sight or blame the fateWe are to be blamed for if anything comes lateEither we have failed to realize the situationOr failed to match with it and had no continuation

There Are No Returns

As children, we shared each other’s games, and grew up thinking we would never change.At eighteen duty called to go to a far off place, we said we’d always wait for each other, no matter how long, we would have to wait.The year turned into five, before I came home.

Things had changed, someone else you had found, while my life was moulded to, and I saw a different you. The carefree life we both had, disappeared as the years came round, our goals were now different bound, and too many things had passed before our eyes.

I smiled sweetly when I saw you; your smile back was just as sweet. He stood at your arm to let the world know, you were spoken for, not free anymore. I just nodded as I passed on by, and you could not see the tears leak from my eyes.

War is not a beautiful thing, with heroes in a Hollywood show. It makes men age each day, their eyes will testify, how I know. The youthful zest no longer smiles, only the old man’s sorrowing soul.

They come back a broken person, whose lives have been altered so. They come home only to find, the old life has been robbed as well, that old torches they used to carry, are gone from them as well.

I moved on hoping never to return, saying I’ll keep in touch, but will never do.Like a nomad, I begin my endless trek, as I want to get away from here and you. More years pass on the way; I find someone and settle down.

Then comes a letter to say you are free, will I come and see, but I look around at all I’ve got, my life that on a solid rock stands, but the calling is so great, I have to go back to where I’ve been.

At the station, I see your face, time has hurt you so, worse that the war hurt me, but I just had to know. I smile, but it is only a courtesy call, I’ve got a new life elsewhere.

We talk about the old times, long before I went away. You know it’s not the same between us, that soon I’ll be on my way. You’ve been hurt the way I was once, but you also know, that I can’t stay.

The day goes on and we reminisce, we smile and laugh about the days we miss. Soon the train is in the station; our hands linger to the touch. I have a new life now; we will never be the same.

She stands there with our son, with open beckoning arms; we rush to meet each other, our bodies held in an embrace. She asks how things went; I smile and simply say, there are no returns.

There Are Demons that Torment All of Us

There are demons that torment all of us. Our past struggles in coming to ourselves where our acts reflect are pain and not our core. Such demons are thought compulsions, which have become an unwelcome tradition in us. They are the ultimate distraction; they have nothing to do with anything. Just think of the ways in which the past echoes through the media during presidential campaigns. Things said and done in the candidates past that have nothing to do with anything relevant are constantly being played. The negative slander of the opposition with a portion of their past truth gets more time, money and energy than defining who one is and what one stands for. Such adds, are disinformation, they have nothing to do with the issues, and who would be best suited to be president.

A significant portion of our mind generates negative rhetoric like the negative presidential campaign adds; it spins gross distortions against itself and for its self. Even more lethal in countless ways is the positive adds that are also distortions. In both cases the mind lies to itself. Our enemies, meaning those who are jealous, envious of us or those who are threaten by us, or those who are addicted to manipulating people, will take advantage of the rhetoric we except. Such parricides will play on your vanities and exploit your weakness. The artful ones will do both.

Superficially the parasites sharaid themselves as a friend, as a stable alliance, as someone you trust, confide in, as a wife. They will appear to be your most genuine supporter who defends you from the negative distortions from your self and from others. But they are not there to support you, all they know is betrayal, for the ones who they are closest too betrayed them. Many times they have identified with the parent or parents or person who betrayed them. As a defense they will not admit how hurt they are and how awful their childhood and life is. They were brought up in a world in which there was the appearance of love, but not real love. They perpetuate this illusion and people who could potentially really love them get caught up in the gravity of their illusions, in their atmosphere; it is a planet of denial and deception where not real caring grows but contempt, where no real love can grow. Where potential love withers and fades unless freeing itself from this insidious sneer.

Such people, cannot really help you, they cannot even help them selves. They can not give to you what they themselves to not have, love, genuine compassion, sincerity.

There Are The Poems That Are Not The Real Poems

There are the poems that are not the real poems, And the poems that are-And the poems that are seem to come out of their own saying With a rhythm and a meaning which makes a music so deep, Even the most lonely soul feels them as a singing inside.

There Are People

There are people who are good there are people who are bad there are people who are rich there are people who are poor there are people who are happy there are people who are sad there are those who encourage and those who discourage. I’m a little bit of them, though some may dispute that claim. The fact that all of usare just about the same. Some might be a little more of one thing than another from the list above. Somewhere along the line, we all fall in a category like it or not, it is because we arejust human after all.

There Are Those Exceptions

Many have spent lifetimes, Doing their best...To manipulate the presence of truth.And yet there is not one shred of proof, That a doing of this has led them to success.However...There are those exceptions! Millions of dollars are spent, In the celebrating of holidays created...To allow the threats of terrorists, Opportunities to rest...As everyone is welcomed to join the festivities.

'But...Where are the terrorists? '

~Ssshhh.They are no threat to us on holidays.Or on weekends.Just Monday through Friday.See them checking their watches? It is almost that time, For them to begin their threats.~

Some May Not Like What They See

With a pinch of anguish.Seems to always provide, The correct antidote...For those arriving from their excursions, Through the land of intoxicating delusion.

There is no debating about the tour taken.An awakening comes without question.Maybe the presence of fear might be there.Since the shock of seeing things as they are...Needs little explanation!

Some may not like what they see.But all agree...What appears, Has them all looking at it for what it is! Even though what it is has been there.Only a few recognized and knew its power! Knowing from the very beginning...An acceptance of shallow fantasies, Ultimately has its consequences.

There Are No Minutes Kept Backed Up

There are no minutes kept backed up, To put aside to decide to live them.There are no minutes that can be stored as such, For one to decide life is worth living.There are no minutes kept backed up.None one can say they have wrapped up.There is no one on Earth with that much luck...To decide when their life is worth the living.

People think they should be shown some proof, That a life they live is worth the living.While they isolate themselves locked up in coops, To decide that a life they live is worth the living.While awaiting for someone to approve what they do, That a life given to them is worth the living.With a choosing of every move...Excusing some choices while others are removed.To clarify that a life they live is worth the living.